Of Boggarts and Flobberworms
by TeaTimeTeller
Summary: Luna Lovegood stepped cautiously towards the boggart, praying it couldn't read into her fears. But as soon as the silent prayer had crossed her mind, it started spinning, changing, into what she feared the most. Please R&R.


Disclaimer: I only own any creatures invented- and the plot. Nothing else.

"Hmm?" I looked up from the latest copy of the Quibbler upon hearing my name. I had just finished reading the article on Jovinochs, a vicious winged frog-like creature, but I suppose that wasn't what I was supposed to be paying attention to at the moment.

"I said, Miss Lovegood, are you paying attention?" the professor, Mad-eye Moody, growled. Before then, I had figured everyone was right when they said curses caused all his scars, but now… I wonder if he were attacks by a Jovinoch when he was younger. With his temper, it wouldn't have been hard to provoke one I suppose, and the scars did look rather like claw marks when you look closely. I've heard some of the older kids call that one Harry Potter person "Scar-Head" before, but if anyone deserved a nickname like that, which wasn't very nice, but completely true, it's Moody.

"Yes, sir. I was paying attention." I _was_ paying attention, just not to him. But he never specifically said that it had to be him I was paying attention to. I lazily turned a page of the magazine. Oh, an article on the Ministry! I do love how Daddy unearths all of these stories that no one else has the guts or knowledge to do.

"Well then," Moody growled, reminding me that I was in class. "I suppose you'll have no difficulty defining a boggart as I just did, will you?" I don't like how he growls all the time. Honestly, you would think a professor would know better then to try and intimidate through the use of his voice. I know for a fact that the only time a voice is dangerous is when the person in question is currently being afflicted with a case of the Snumples, a rare disease that causes one to shoot poison from their mouths. It was mentioned in one of Daddy's magazines about a year ago, and I can remember every word of every issue that he's printed.

I remembered that I was supposed to be defining a boggart. Nastily ordinary and boring creatures they were. But I figured I may as well try to answer as if I found them interesting. "A boggart is a creature that goes around mimicking objects of a person's worst fear. And oftentimes, I think the things people are scared of are silly. Who could be scared of snakes when there are things like Jovinochs out there?" I couldn't help but add the last bit, and a boy behind me sniggered. It was quite rude of him, especially when he whispered in my ear.

"Hey Loony, where'd you get this crack-pot idea? From a random butterfly that passed by?" I ignored him, being quite used to being called Loony. Really, I could care less what people call me, because they just don't know the truth. It's narrow minded people who normally think of me like this; people like that Hermione Granger who Harry Potter hangs out with. I haven't ever met her, but from what I heard she's a top student, meaning she believes everything the teachers shove in front of us.

Moody was still looking at me, and I don't think he heard the boy's comment. But then, maybe he did, because teachers often don't worry about reprimanding people who make fun of me; it probably gets old after a while. "Well, correct in essentials, though I'm not all sure about that last bit of yours." I nodded wryly, now almost positive that it had been a Jovinoch which had given those wounds (after he had insulted it, of course).

Moody turned to face the rest of the class. "Today, we will be tackling a boggart. The spell itself requires little effort- what is more difficult is your focus. You must focus for it to succeed. Now take out your wands and repeat after me. _Riddikulus!_"

"_Riddikulus!_" I repeated, bored by the proceedings. If someone really wanted to defeat a boggart, all you had to do was walk away. Honestly, sometimes I'm not sure professors really understand their subject. Why study boggarts when people know so much about them? Crumple-Horned Snorkacks, Lackworsts… the list of truly fascinating Dark creatures went on and on. I looked up from my magazine and realized that Moody was having everybody form a line.

Grudgingly, I stowed _The Quibbler_ into my book bag, and slid into line. It seemed that we would have to face one of the boggarts Moody had found in the castle. Though many people seemed to be nervous, I wasn't. I'm not really scared of anything, or not anything that could take physical appearance.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to me. What if nothing happened? What if I was just standing there forever, waiting for the boggart to change shape? Was that even possible? Perhaps it was, but I doubt it. It would probably assume I was afraid of something physical. But I'm not. There's only one thing that scares me, and it is something that no boggart could take the shape of; something that I suppose I shouldn't fear, given my reputation. All the same, a shiver of fear ran through my body. A girl behind me noticed.

"Scared, Loopy Luna? Gonna wet your diapers because your boggart turns into a flobberworm?" I rolled my eyes. A flobberworm? Those things were slimy, ugly, and dull. Why would anyone be afraid of them? I jut smiled, surveying her.

"Why would anyone be scared of a flobberworm?"

"We figured that since you live with your head in the clouds, you would be scared of something baby-ish. What are you scared of, then? A scary cloud?" The other girl beside her giggled and waved her fingers, trying to be funny. I don't see why people do that all the time. It just makes them look stupid.

"No. You'll see, I guess."

Too soon, it seemed, Moody was beckoning me forward. The boggart, which had been changed to a headless vampire by the person before me, turned to face me. It paused, and didn't change. I silently crossed my fingers hoping it wouldn't transform into what I thought it might. If it did, I don't know what I'd do. I caught my breath as the boggart began to spin, slow transfiguring into a different shape. Slowly, the shape began to take form.

Without any warning, the boggart suddenly exploded. And not just a little explosion either. A loud, resounding bang emitted from the spot where smoke was now wafting, as pieces of the boggart, oddly resembling parchment floated to the ground. A girl in the back screamed softly, and a few people jumped. Stunned, I just stood there, staring at the spot where the boggart had stood. Eyes wide, I turned to Professor Moody.

"I don't think it much liked my fear." Someone behind me gave a reluctant giggle. Another person however, thought I was being stupid.

"Oi, Lovegood! You mind not getting rid of the entire point of this class. I didn't even get to go!" A few other voices murmured in agreement. Moody shot the class a withering stare, and everyone immediately grew silent. He gave me an appraising look, eyebrows raised. A couple inches higher and I think he might've managed to make them disappear completely. Or, make it disappear, I should say, since he only had one regular eyebrow.

"Well, Miss Lovegood," he growled, in a manner which didn't signify if he was upset, or merely interested. "That is something I had yet to see for myself- something I'd only read about. Interesting." He turned to face the rest of the class, which was now buzzing with whispers. "Well, class. You all have just witnessed something few have ever seen- a boggart self-destruct."

Someone in the back raised their hand. "But, why did it do that, sir?"

"Because," Moody said, sounding slightly interested for the first time ever. "When a boggart cannot materialize into someone's fear, it cannot transform. Having nothing to become, it simply chooses the only other option- to be nothing. And to be nothing, it must self-destruct."

Several people now raised their hands. I was hoping that none of them asked what I was afraid of. Moody pointed to a small boy in my house. "Why could it not transform? Everyone is scared of something."

A harsh laugh escaped Moody's lips. "You being in Ravenclaw, I thought you'd have figured it out by now. If there is not physical representation of a fear, what's it going to turn into?" Again, he turned and faced me. "So I have only one more question for you, Miss Lovegood." Oh no, here it comes.

The beeping sound of a bell ended the class before he could ask. Amazed by my luck (Maybe the gurdyroots were good for something other than to ward off evil- maybe they were lucky…) I practically ran out into the hall. Behind me, I could hear Moody's voice ringing out from the classroom. Was he really not aware that I wasn't in the room?

"What was it you are afraid of?"

I grinned to myself. He never had to know. No one did. It was my fear, my problem, yet I never had to face it, because no one ever gave me a chance. But now that I knew it was there, I could deal with this fear better. Some may ask what it is, what can be my greatest fear, but because of others, one that I cannot ever face. My answer would shock them, I'm sure. For my greatest fear is many's greatest desire.

My fear is of being accepted.

A/N: This started out as an answer to a challenge. I didn't think it was good enough for the challenge, but I'll post it anyways, as I did write it. The challenge was: 'Luna Lovegood meets a boggart. Has the world ended, or is it just something normal?' Hope you enjoyed it!


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